


tear down my reason

by voodoochild



Category: Political RPF - US 21st c.
Genre: Dom/sub, F/M, Kink Meme, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-22
Updated: 2010-03-22
Packaged: 2017-10-08 06:05:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/73490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voodoochild/pseuds/voodoochild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They keep each other in check. It doesn't matter how.</p>
            </blockquote>





	tear down my reason

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the **rahmbamarama** kinkmeme, for the prompt "Rahm/Nancy: Bondage, Wish-fulfillment, Well-fucked (being fucked out; fuck-dazed; sated and sleepy; wrecked; softened and debauched)." Title taken from Nine Inch Nails' "Closer", everyone and their third cousin's go-to song for filthy kinky porn. I apologize for falling into the cliche.

Beautiful. Just fucking beautiful.

This was a sight over half the House would kill to see: Nancy Pelosi, the most powerful woman in Washington DC, three heartbeats from the presidency, bound to a king-size bed in a hotel room in Georgetown. Wrists bruised despite the padded handcuffs, she slumps against the pillows, eyeing him exhaustedly.

He turns her over gently, straddling her hips. "Whaddaya say, Nance? Ready to call it?"

She shoots him their bedroom version of her "veto me, fucker" stare, still refusing to give in despite the pounding she'd taken. And she'd asked for every bit of it - verbally, before he'd gagged her, and silently, after the spanking had ripped all of her vaunted eloquence from her. It was so very rare they were allowed to engage in this sort of play, but with Amy in Quebec on business, Paul off in Russia on some negotiations, and spousal permission slips firmly in hand, he'd slid the note into her morning briefing.

_Georgetown Park Hyatt, the Clean Energy Conference from 3 to 6 pm. It's been added to your schedule. Be in room 458 at 8 pm. Wear the green set and the gold ankle cuff - I'll check._

She'd been perfectly obedient, flashing him a glimpse of forest-green bra as she bent to re-tie her shoe during the conference, also allowing him a look at the gold anklet he'd bought her. It was padlocked, the key resting safely in the pocket of his suit jacket. They only brought it out when she needed it - the reminder that there were still times when decisions weren't up to her. That she would be held accountable to him.

Eight pm on the dot, she'd knocked on the door, and he'd snapped the cuffs on her right then and there. Closed the door and she'd gone to her knees immediately. His fingers had wound into her hair, tilting her head back, and baring her throat to a sharp bite, still a flushed red even now, hours later.

Only the first of many places on her body that he'd turn red that night.

"No," she responds now, voice a low rasp that goes straight to his dick. _Attagirl, Nance. Don't you give in, not until you make me work for it._

Which is how it goes, during these nights. She turns over control to him, he pushes her as far as she'll let him, and then they both get the rest of the way there together. There's no thought of how she's the goddamn Speaker and he's the Chairman of the D-Triple-C, and they're so far outside the boundaries of congressional relations that they can see fucking China from their window. Those kinds of thoughts weigh heavily enough on them the rest of the times they fall into bed together.

"Good," he growls, slamming into her, way eased by the wetness he's drawn due to the spanking. He so rarely takes his hands - or anything else - to her that when he does, it drives her up the fucking wall. Any other time, he'd be reluctant to hurt her; she's his boss, she's his friend, and he admires the hell out of her. But during these specific times, there is no rank or rule between them.

Just him in control and her letting go.

"Jesus, Rahm, please," she pants, raising her hips to meet him, and blowing strands of hair out of her face. "Let me - I just need to-"

"You need to what? Come? Not yet. You know how this works."

She answers him with a wail - oh, he's just hit her g-spot, and the hand he's slid between them to touch her clit circles too slowly to allow her to climax. He's being more than a bit of a bastard; they've been at this for almost two hours, and he's refused to allow her to orgasm. Payback's a bitch, just like Nancy, and while he can't use a cock ring on her, like she's fond of doing to him, he has his ways.

All the little things he does designed to drive her crazier than she usually makes him - a bite to the patch of skin just between her jaw and her neck; sucking softly at her collarbone; a tight grip to the back of her knee as he fucks her; his other hand flickering softly against her clit - and oh, she's fucking gorgeous like this. Complete abandonment of all her legendary restraint.

He watches her eyes, which is what you've got to do when you're with Nancy. Sometimes she's so far out that she'll forget to safeword - tonight wasn't one of those times, she'd stopped him when he'd drawn blood out of her back - and sometimes she'll wall herself off so tightly it's like fucking a doll. It's not her fault. It's just the way she's built herself over the past decade or so.

It just means you have to work a little harder at breaking her, and he's almost gotten her to that point.

He can see the flickering beginnings of her surrender, pupils blown wide and liquid, as the press of her nails into his back passes ouch and slides into jesus fuck, be careful. She maps the span of his shoulders, cream-painted nails leaving reddened trails behind as they rake down his back to rest on his ass. He scrapes his teeth over her earlobe, and she shivers delicately, then violently as he starts to whisper into her ear.

"That's it, baby, that's it. Let me hear you beg for it. Fucking beg me, Nance, open your mouth and let me hear it. If you beg pretty enough, I'll let you come."

Her breath is coming in pants, chasing at the heels of his own ragged breathing. He sinks teeth into her bottom lip, careful in this one instance not to mark her. That's their rule - nowhere visible to the prying eyes of cameras and staffers, nowhere it can be used against them. She pushes back harder, bites him every bit as harshly as he does her, and he pulls back, a silent "no, not yet".

"Rahm, god, please - just let me -"

"Not good enough. Try again."

She cries out, a harsh half-growl that means she could cheerfully wring his neck, and god, almost. Almost there. He varies the pressure of his hand against her clit, hard and relentless the way she's taught him gets her there fastest. Normally he'd laugh and tell her it's not a race, but it kind of is, after all the teasing he's put her through.

Her head snaps back as she comes, stifling her shriek - oh, wow, she's usually quieter than this - in his shoulder. And she just keeps coming, hair-trigger fast and shaking underneath him, slickhottight around him. He thinks his eyes cross as he follows her into climax, but he can't be sure, considering he's at eye-level with her breasts right now, and his eyes are closed.

"Quitter," he mutters into her chest, easing his weight off her to settle on the clean sheets.

She turns her head, breathing still evening out, and rolls her eyes exhaustedly. "Cunttease."

He laughs, the fingers of his left hand trailing idly up and down her side, solid enough to soothe her down. She's stopped bleeding, but the marks he'd left on her ass and thighs still flush a bright red. His hand grazes one of them, and she shudders deliciously, arching back into the touch.

"Like you'd want me any other way, Madame Speaker. Not when you asked for it."

She raises an eyebrow. "You just remember that when it's your turn. See if I go easy on you."

"You know me, Nance - when am I ever easy?"

Her answering snicker gets her a playful swat on the ass before he hooks an arm around her waist and falls asleep.


End file.
